


Pony

by sharedwithyou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angstangstangst, F/M, Mindfuck, Mostly humor, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-12
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-08 08:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7749733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SLIGHTLY inspired by Pony-Ginuwine. Hey, don't judge.</p><p> </p><p>“Well we haven’t found anything yet, and we’re kind of out of leads…”</p><p>“And what exactly is wiggling to loud music going to do?”</p><p>Cas the Pragmatic stared at you and Dean getting your groove on, as Sam shook his head with a slight smile.</p><p> </p><p>“This isn’t just music. It’s ‘Pony.’”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pony

**Author's Note:**

> wheee!!!!  
> here's a little fun one i wrote after having a fun talk about throwback songs with my friend, and this song coming up  
> apparently more than one person has gotten nasty with this in the background...tmi? fyi not me, just people i know...
> 
> by the way if you haven't heard it, william singe's cover is fucking amazing and sexy as hell...  
> anyway, that's not what this is about exactly, but it's still fun
> 
> most of the dirty i write is dirty humor anyway
> 
> so here's a buckylicious style of angst+humor, supernatural style  
> again, this is not my fanverse, i've watched most of season five and some episodes from the previous seasons, so don't except much accuracy (and this is fanficiton anyway, so suspension of belief should be a freakin given :P)
> 
> give me some love below if you liked!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker

 

 

“Aww, this is my ish.”

“I know, right?”

“Guys, how is this productive whatsoever?!”

“Well we haven’t found anything yet, and we’re kind of out of leads…”

“And what exactly is wiggling to loud music going to do?”

Cas the Pragmatic stared at you and Dean getting your groove on, as Sam shook his head with a slight smile.

 

“This isn’t just music. It’s ‘Pony.’”

 

Sam choked on the beer he’d decided to crack open at you and Dean’s antics, while Castiel continued staring at you like the weirdo you were.

“(Y/n)’s right. This is probably the song she lost it too.”

Dean held a hand up to catch the beer Sam tossed at him, and dodged your elbow in one motion. You, on the other hand, had to walk over for yours. Since Sam was biased towards making Dean look cooler than you.

Or maybe because you probably would’ve dropped yours.

 

Either way, you were next to him now so you nudged him with a grin.

“Come on, shake it up, baby.”

“Uhm pass.”

“I’m sure you got moves, Baby Winchester.”

“Fine, fine; just stop calling me baby.”

Sam nodded to the beat, his version of dancing you guessed, but Dean was doing some major hip-hop shit in the middle at so you left the younger one alone for the moment.

 

“Damn, boy. Cuttin up the rug, aren’t you?”

“Believe me, this song and the rug are hand in hand from my past.”

“Ew.” You made a face at the disgusting but still slightly sexy thought of Dean getting it on with some young thing on the ground.

Oof, that was enough sobriety for today.

“Hit me with another one, Sam.”

“Two in one day? Someone’s getting crazy.”

“Shut up.”

He tsked, but handed you another beer. Psh, enabler.

 

“Sam’s right. You have like, no tolerance.”

“Since when are you my mom, Dean?”

“Hey, it’s a free country; just calling not-it on holding your hair when you throw up half a lung later.”

“Nose goes!” Sam called over your shoulder, and the brothers shared a smirky look before turning to Cas.

 

 

“…what?”

 

 

But before someone explained the concept of ‘Not-it’ to Cas, you were putting the song on repeat and doing the lasso over to Dean.

“Hey, lambada with me.”

He chuckled but took a step back. “That’s the Coors talking, ain’t it.”

“Come on,” you whined, liquid courage coloring your cheeks as much as your boldness. “Don’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

“Does it count as a diss if I say I haven’t? Because you get punchy when your feelings are hurt.”

“Don’t insult my looks,” you pouted. He knew that was a sore spot.

 

 

 

“Maybe he doesn’t pay any attention to me because I’m not pretty enough.”

“Maybe.”

You pinched Dean’s arm and he swatted you away. “You said it, not me.”

“I was fishing.”

“Yeah, well go to a lake then.”

You nodded with a dry laugh, and took a swig of your rum-less Coke.

“Easy for you to say. You can get laid in like a second.”

“God’s burden on me, I’d say.”

You laughed again, before giving him a sideways glance. But he was still chill-drunk, in between buzzed-drunk and mopey-drunk, so you were good. “Let’s keep him out of this, yeah?”

“Sure.” He’d clink to that.

 

“But Cas is an angel, and you know that.”

“So?!”

“So, he’s not programmed to, like, fuck and stuff.”

“Dean!!” You punched him and he let you this time.

“What? You sound horny.”

“I said I wanted his attention. Not his penis.”

“Eh, I guess that’s what it is for girls.”

“Right, guys need sex, girls need love. Blah blah blah.” You glared at him balefully, but his charming Dean-y smile and you forgave him immediately. Bastard.

“Anyway, you have as much a chance as any, so you can hold on to that.”

“Well maybe that’s because no one has a chance. And therefore I have zero chance too.”

“Hey, you’re the one who fell for an angel, not me.”

“Can they even feel?”

“You’ve seen him get banished. Pretty sure that hurts.”

“I mean like, love, and stuff.”

“Don’t get sappy on me.” Fifth shot is usually when he got grouchy.

“I know they’re all a big family in heaven. A big dysfunctional family-“

“What’s new?”

“But what about romance?” You finished. You wanted a gossip-buddy and Dean would have to do, interruptions, snark, and all. “Why wouldn’t he want that?”

 

Dean coughed, before giving you a weird look. “Well, why don’t you ask him then?”

 

“He doesn’t like talking to me.”

“You kind of put him on edge.”

“I’m not unfriendly!”

“No, you’re not. Maybe too friendly, actually.”

You wanted to hit him again, but maybe that was the sugar. You had so much soda it might as well have been alcohol to you, side effects and all. “I’m not that obvious about it.”

“To Sam and I, you are.”

You chewed your lip in thought, as he continued.

“But hey, we’re hunters. And guys in their twenties. So when a chick’s got it bad, we’d probably know.”

“And Castiel is like what, a thousand?”

“Way more, probably. But he tends to have tunnel vision. And he’s not human.”

“Enough of him is.” You grinned at your little joke, and he tilted his head back to let out a huge laugh.

“This is why we’re friends, man.”

“Yup. We’re bros.”

“You don’t look that feminine, anyway.”

“Shut up.”

“Maybe that’s why you can’t get into his pants-“

“Callate.”

 

 

 

“Ah, what the hell. It’s just dancing.”

Dean commented, before pulling you closer to him.

“That’s more like it.”

“No offense, guys, but ew.” Sam yelled over you cranking up the tunes.

“What, you don’t like to watch?”

“We all have to use this room!!” He griped with a scowl.

“Leave her alone, Sammy,” Dean called, before putting his hands on your hips. He leaned his lips into your ear.

“Is this what you really want?”

“What do you mean?” You whispered back.

“A quick fling. A little distraction. Because, believe me, I’m good at that. Or…”

“Spit it out, Dean.” He was so exasperating.

 

“Are you trying to make a non-human Justice Machine jealous?”

 

You weren’t sure if your transparency being shoved into your face hurt more, or the heavy undertones of absurdity Dean was adding. Like there was some unspoken, rhetorical question hiding beneath it.

Like anyone would want you.

Or like Cas would be able to.

 

 

“That’s enough.”

 

 

The silence bit into your mind as Castiel clicked the Ipod off and pulled you away.

“I’m fine,” you complained, the telltale sign of a drunk.

“Know your limits, (y/n).”

He was just talking about alcohol, but in the midst of things, it hurt. A lot.

“Why do you care?” You got quite defensive when hammered, evidently.

“I care about all my friends.”

 

That line, the universal crush of friendzoning, should have destroyed you. But hey, you were already on the ground, so you didn’t really feel like getting kicked.

Besides, at least you’d been upgraded from ‘ward.’

 

“Get her some coffee.” Sam motioned Dean towards the door, not exactly sure what happened but suspecting it involved his brother being a bigass douche.

“Whatever.” Dean shrugged and grabbed his jacket, and walked out like the mad-cool person he was. No matter how big of a dick he was, he had swag.

 

Exhausted from over-imbibing and getting feels-wrecked, you plopped onto the bed with a thud.

 

“He didn’t mean it, (y/n).”

“You don’t know what he said, Sam.”

“No, but I know him.”

 

“Get some rest, (y/n).” Cas spoke authoritatively, and Sam nodded in agreement, before jumping out of his chair.

“Damnit.”

“What?”

“Dean left his wallet.” He let out a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing it and heading out. “You’ll keep an eye on her, yeah?”

“Of course.” At least someone gave a crap. Even if it was out of a sense of duty. Your little pity party was going great.

“Good.” He stopped half-way out the door. “Oh, and the bucket’s in the bathroom.”

“…I see.”

 

You curled up into the blankets, ashamed of making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You couldn’t even enjoy the rare opportunity for time alone with your favorite angel.

Favorite being on earth? Sure you weren’t that close; but you were irreversibly drawn to him.

And it wasn’t just saving your life, was it?

Since the brothers had saved you before as well.

 

 

“Dean?”

“What’s up Sammy?” Dean looked up from the candy selection in the Quik Mart.

“Something you wanna tell me?”

“Yeah.”

Sam gave him the good-brother nod of ‘I’m giving you my full attention.’

“They’re out of Red Vines.”

Sam groaned at Dean’s, well, Deaniness.

“I mean, about (y/n).”

 

“Oh. Then, no.”

 

 

“How are you feeling?”

“Pukey.”

Castiel backed away slightly, holding the bucket in front of him like both a sacred offering and a shield.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to throw up on you.”

“I’ve had worse. Believe me.”

You smiled, feeling your hurt feelings mend slightly. He was being literal, but it made you feel better.

“I’ve learned that half of what Dean says is offensive. It’s the other half that matters, (y/n).”

Now that he was actively trying to make you feel better, you felt squeamish. You didn’t want him to know that he was the subject behind your little meltdown. Did angels have super hearing?

“Personally, I think that drivel you consider music contributes to his colorful vocabulary.”

“Hey, don’t hate on Ginuwine. Just because it’s not hymns or Gregorian Chants doesn’t mean it can’t kick some ass.”

“I was talking about your new Little Wayne crap.”

“It’s Lil, Cas. Not Little.”

“Right.” He pointed the bucket towards you again, but you shook your head. The turning in your stomach definitely wasn’t beer now.

 

“Anyway, who sings about horses to a bass-line like that anyway?”

 

You spit in the air, and he practically threw the bucket at you. You sat up to show him you weren’t about to hurl, before laughing so hard your ribs hurt.

“What’s so funny?”

“Well, for one, it’s not about horses.”

“Right. Ponies. Yes a lot of kids ask for those on Christmas.”

You almost cried at this; but you managed not to laugh up a lung.

“So, I take it you’ve never ridden one?” You asked between giggles.

“We don’t exactly have the childhoods that you do.”

“Ahh.” You rolled out of bed to grab a glass of water. Your throat had been burning from the liquor trying to come back up; now it was burning from Castiel’s hilarious naivety.

“What do you need?”

“I’m cool,” you assured as you placed one foot in front of another towards the sink. “Just getting some agua.”

 

 

“Let me.”

 

 

The distance was probably only three feet, but in a blink he was in front of you and pushing you gently back into bed.

“You know, Cas, I might get the wrong idea from this.”

“How?” He turned to grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, oblivious as always.

“Eh, nevermind. Above your pay-grade.” You’d cut your losses now, happy for the feeling of warmth on your shoulders where he’d touched you.

“If you say so.” He handed you the bottle, before sitting down in one of the sofa chairs, still facing you.

“You know, when Sam said to keep an eye on me, he didn’t mean literally.”

“I tend to take things so, yes.”

You nodded with a small grin. “Take the song, Pony.”

“Sure.”

“It’s not about ponies.”

“And?”

“It’s about sex.”

“Oh.”

 

He scratched his head and looked away slightly. It was adorable.

 

“So you angels, don’t…”

He gave you a look that was full of annoyance, but for once it didn’t bother you. It was freaking hilarious.

“So you’ve never wanted to?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“I guess you’re right. If anything, it would be Jimmy who felt like it, huh.”

He sat forward in his chair and lost what little relaxedness he had shown. “Let’s not talk about it.”

“Right. My bad.”

 

Well, it wasn’t the best news you’d heard all week, but it had been fun talking to him nonetheless.

And tomorrow, you’d probably have forgiven Dean already. He had that effect on people.

You’d hate him for his undeniable lovableness, but even that was hard to do.

Some people just had it easy.

But that was enough wallowing for the day. At least you’d made a friend out of a guardian.

And you knew what song to play the next time you wanted to make Sam really uncomfortable.

 

 

You were almost asleep when you felt someone’s hand brush against your forehead.

“Sam?” He was probably checking your temperature like the mother hen he sometimes was.

“No.”

You felt your lips expand into a smile. “Usually you visit me in my dreams, Castiel. Or outside them. Not in between.”

“I’ve only been there once-“

“Nevermind.” You were lucky he didn’t read into these things.

“I just…”

You wanted to reach up and touch his hand with yours, but sleep was pulling at you and you didn’t have the strength to fight it today.

“We’re not like you. But we’re not completely different-“

Your snore interrupted him; you slept with your mouth open when you were ruined.

He sighed, half-disappointed and half-relieved.

 

 

“We can feel, (y/n). And I wish I could explain how I felt about you.”

 

 

But the only one who heard was Dean, who’d made it into the room first.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> WHEEEEEEE
> 
> leave me a comment lovelies!!!
> 
>  
> 
> random ramblings:  
> poll 1: FAV PART?!?!? funny/fluffy?/angsty?!  
> mine is probably when cas almost throws the bucket at lovely when she laughs at his question about pony; the idea of him hurling at her is just hilarious  
> although the idea of cas splitting you and dean up in the middle of grinding because he cares about you and is possibly jealous is pretty sweet too ;)
> 
> poll 2: cas or dean? (BASED ON THIS FIC GUYS)  
> i don't know who (if anyone) is going to be biased otherwise, but i've had experiences with a certain soul-twin where clarifying might be necessary ;P
> 
> poll 3: sequel?  
> i felt kind of like it was a mean ending, but i also like things unresolved like this. mainly because i didn't want to jump the gun on a full-on cas/reader in case there's something in a future season that bans it/makes it impossible/makes it an abomination/i don't really know i just didn't feel like accidentally shocking anyone since this isn't my fanverse and my headcannon is just getting started  
> however, if you guys would like to see more than just this pussyfooting (shut up tony) around in my writing, let me know! let's ruin this angel- okay i'll stop i swear ;)  
> anyway it was also nice because dean obviously had a chip on his shoulder that needed to be dealt with... even in a crappy cliffie style like this  
> oh by the way if someone wants to fill in whether angels can feel horny/be in love (without spoiling anything) please do. if not, i'll just assume the best ;)
> 
> actually one more quick poll 4: could you tell dean was jelly? (i mean before the point where i made it painfully obvious)


End file.
